Legacy
by Bil
Summary: On a lonely world a lifetime from home, Kathryn Janeway awaits the final step in her journey. Complete.


Legacy  
by Bil!  
  
Season: Future from five  
Warnings: Character death. But kind of in a good way.  
Archive: Do not archive without permission.   
Disclaimer: This Universe and all it contains are Paramount's. No money has been received for this, a work of fiction.   
  
A/N: The new and improved proof-read version! This was the only story out of about five that I forgot to proof-read, so of course it was the only one with lots of spelling mistakes. Sorry about that. I hope it's better now.  
  
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Far from any kind of civilisation, I lie on my back on a grassy hill-top, feeling the chill seep from the ground into my old bones, breathing in the crisp night air, smiling slightly as the breeze tugs at my hair, watching the alien stars glimmer their unfamiliar patterns in the dark, velvet night.  
  
In the distance a single-voiced howl cries to the stars, speaking of loneliness, of abandonment. Crying for companionship. It sounds very similar to a wolf, but the thought brings me no fear. Fear has stalked me for too long, while life stole away all those things that were precious to me. Fear no longer brings me fear, in an irony even a Vulcan would appreciate. Even a Vulcan. It's been so long...  
  
I have been many things in my life: scientist, leader, diplomat, warrior, explorer, trader, dreamer. Wanderer. I have been a wanderer for a very long time; rootless and bound to no place. For the one place that was ever truly my home is gone. And I didn't realise that it was my home until it no longer existed. How many times have I been so foolish, I wonder. Forsaking what I had for the sake of what I thought I wanted.  
  
The breeze picks up, ruffling through my hair in a gentle caress, no doubt wondering what this strange creature is doing in its domain. I'll be gone soon, I tell the wind-creature. Very soon. The smell it carries is achingly familiar: jasmine. It brings back memories of my family, my parents, my sister. of growing up. Of carefree days spent escaping all worries.  
  
But I don't feel close to those memories any more. That child, even that woman, the one who experienced those things, she is long gone, burnt away in the crucible of life. And only I remain. Was it a fair trade? I don't know. But I have never believed that a life for a life is a fair trade, not unless it was my life I was giving for someone else.   
  
Tuvix. Talk of trading lives always reminds me of Tuvix. I killed him. Killed a living, sentient being to retrieve my two officers. I have committed other atrocities in the name of freedom and what is right, but Tuvix has come to be their symbol. Even now, I have not come to terms with what I did. He *was*, he existed, and I knowingly took that from him. I could never forgive myself that. Never. And the worst thing? I know that if I was given the choice again, I would make the same decision.  
  
The breeze shuffles through the trees on the opposite hill now, shaking them like dainty castanets. The rush and roar of an ocean wave is echoed in their husky whispers. I remember oceans. Both the familiar, like the seas around San Fransisco, and the new, alien worlds with alien landscapes. A lifetime of memories.   
  
A lifetime of Voyager. I still cannot decide whether or not I failed them. I didn't get  
them home, but for many of them Voyager was more a home than any other place had been. But yes, yes, I did fail them. I lost them. I didn't save them. I should have at the very least died with them, but they left me in a blaze of glory, and I remained to spread the word of their legacy. The bards of a hundred worlds sing of the exploits of my crew.  
  
The breeze has moved on to the waterfall, sending a shimmer of water spraying out like an explosion of diamonds in the starlight. I watch a single droplet hover ever so briefly, then fall, tumbling wildly out-of-control before plunging resolutely into the pool at the waterfall's foot and merging seamlessly with all those who have fallen before.  
  
My life was like that, pulled about by forces that were always, no matter how I deluded myself, out of my control. Looking back, I'm not sure I would have appreciated being in control. On the whole there is a joy in a life of surprises. But no surprise awaits me know, I know what is coming.   
  
It is strange how my entire life has been leading to this lonely hillside on a world far from that of my birth. But my entire life has been strange, different. Even stranger to think that it will soon be over.   
  
I have never believed in destiny, yet all the events of my life have conspired to bring me here now. Why am I to die on an uninhabited planet a lifetime of travel from my world? I am a scientist, "because" is not an acceptable answer. And yet it is the only one I have. And the dreamer within me listens to it with a delighted smile. I don't know why I am here. Just because.  
  
The breeze returns to me, causing the grass around me to bow down as though in supplication. I feel intangible fingers brush gently across my cheek, though no one is there. But there is a whisper on the wind. "Kathryn..."  
  
I knew he would wait for me. He has always waited for me.  
  
But there are other voices. "Captain!" they cry happily. "Welcome home, Captain!"  
  
I close my eyes and feel myself slipping away. I no longer need this body; nothing ties me to my mercurial former life.  
  
And when I open my eyes I see them waiting for me. My crew. My friends.  
  
My family.  
  
I step forward into the brightness. I'm home.   
  
And behind me, seeming asleep in the starlit grass, is my discarded body, clutching a legacy for future explorers. A tale of a ship and her crew. A tale of life and death, of adventure. A myth, a lesson. Our gift to the future. Our journey.  
  
One day, perhaps, people will come from the planet of my birth, perhaps coming this way by chance, maybe following the trail of songs and stories we left behind. And they will marvel at the piece of old-fashioned technology clutched by a weary skeleton, then marvel again at the tales held within.  
  
Maybe they will even grieve for us, though we are long gone. But we are happy, exploring the universe the way we were always meant to.  
  
Don't mourn for us. Death only set us free.   
  
  
Fin  
  
Copyright 2002 


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